Plagues

יְהִי רָצוֹן מִלִּפְנֵי אָבִינוּ שֶׁבַּשָּׁמַיִם

אֲשֶׁר הוֹצִיא אֶת עַמּוֹ יִשְׂרָאֵל מִתַּחַת סִבְלוֹת מִצְרַיִם

הוּא יְבָרֵךְ וְיִנְצֹר אֶת אַחֵינוּ וְאַחְיוֹתֵינוּ

הַחֲטוּפִים הָאֲסוּרִים בְּכַבְלֵי בַּרְזֶל,

יְחַזֵּק נַפְשָׁם וֶאֱמוּנָתָם,

יִשְׁמְרֵם מִכָּל נֶגַע וּמַחֲלָה,

יַחְמֹל עַל בָּנָיו וּבְנוֹתָיו הַמְּצַפִּים לִישׁוּעָתוֹ,

יְבַטֵּל מֵעֲלֵיהֶם כָּל גְּזֵרוֹת אַכְזָרִיּוֹת.

May it be the will of our FATHER IN HEAVEN

Who brought His people Israel out from the suffering of Egypt

that He bless and save our abducted brothers and sisters,

bound with iron chains.

May He strengthen their souls and faith,

Protect them from all harm and disease,

Have mercy on His sons and daughters awaiting His salvation,

Nullify all cruel decrees from upon them.

בְּחַסְדּוֹ הַגָּדוֹל

יָחִישׁ פְּדוּתָם

וְיֵצְאוּ מְהֵרָה מֵאֲפֵלָה לְאוֹרָה

וּמִבּוֹר הַשְּׁבִי לְחֵרוּת עוֹלָם

וְיָשׁוּבוּ לְשָׁלוֹם אֶל מִשְׁפְּחוֹתֵיהֶם וְאֶל בָּתֵּיהֶם.

In His great kindness,

may He hasten their redemption

and may they quickly emerge from darkness to light,

and from the pit of captivity to the freedom of the world,

and return in peace to their families and to their homes.

אָנָּא, נֶטַע אַחֲוָה שָׁלוֹם וְרֵעוּת בְּלֵב כֻּלָּם,

הָסֵר קִנְאָה וְשִׂנְאַת חִנָּם

וּפְרֹס עָלֵינוּ סֻכַּת שְׁלוֹמֶךָ

וְנִזְכֶּה בְּקָרוֹב לוֹמַר לְפָנֶיךָ שִׁירָה חֲדָשָׁה.

Please, plant brotherhood, peace and friendship in the hearts of all,

Remove envy and baseless hatred

and spread over us the Sukkah of Your peace,

And may we merit to soon sing before You a ‘New Song.’[1]

This prayer for the well-being of the captives taken hostage by ḤAMA”S and its allies on 7 October 2023 was written by the Ashkenazi chief rabbi of the State of Israel, David Lau, and shared by his office in the month preceding Pesaḥ 2024. The text of the prayer transcribed is that as posted at Arutz Sheva on 7 April 2024. The translation in English was made by Rabbi Shimshon Nadel as disseminated over Facebook on 8 April 2024. Many thanks to Abraham Katz for bringing the prayer to our attention. He notes the prayer is intended to be read at the Passover seder in the Maggid section before והיא שעמדה (v’hi she’amda).

As we enter a New Year without our loved one, our memories of them and the experiences we shared with them may begin to feel further away. This activity invites us into presence with our memories and creates a physical keepsake we can revisit. You may want to begin collecting memories during Rosh Hashanah, and continue adding to the jar throughout the year. 

To start, place a large jar, decorated box or vessel in a convenient location. Next, whenever you have a memory of your loved one, write it down on a slip of paper and place it in the jar. If a memory crosses your mind and you don’t have access to paper, record a voice memo or type it into your phone so you can transfer it to paper later. Your memories can be simple, such as a holiday tradition, your loved one’s favorite food, or of an adventure or experience you shared. 

Any time you wish to recall their lives, take a note from the jar. You can also revisit memories at the start of another New Year, when you say Yizkor or Kaddish, each time you visit their grave, or mark their birthday or yahrzeit. You can create a scrapbook with photos that correspond to the memories. You can read the notes together with other family members or friends and then share the story of the memory together. Or, invite several people to share stories at your Rosh Hashanah seder, Yom Kippur break fast or Sukkot gathering. 

— 

This ritual was adapted by Chloe Nassau, based on a creation from the Center for Loss & Renewal, Rabbi Benyamin Cirlin, LCSW

In the Time of our Sorrow

By Rachel Kann

My tongue wants to un-gate the flood, it is

an urgent compulsion to spill knotted guts,

in these weeks of banned melody,

my lips wants to rebel,

to howl,

to sing

of my suffering,

of all my shortcomings,

every rejection,

every threat to our collective existence,

the abandonment unabated,

of how my heart is a bitter almond,

spilling with cyanide,

splitting its endocarp,

longing only for the orchard,

of how my heart is a heavy stone,

flack-jacketed,

sallow and sinking in my chest,

how a glut of shrapnel is stuck in my throat,

of how I am blindfolded in love’s minefield,

frozen, unable to navigate the danger

lurking beneath the surface,

hurtful blossoms

lying in night-wait

only to explode,

detonate the light of day,

of the world’s unending

re-dedication to the re-destruction

of temples.

My heart wants to take flight,

transcend the gravity

of this misbegotten planet.

Before the unkindness of ravens and

murder of crows can escape the open moan,

I am circle-dancing,

hand in hand with so many wondrous

warrior women,

with Magda and Miriam,

who came through the dark tunnel of the Shoah,

who are here with me,

present and spilling light.

This is beyond awe,

beyond gratitude.

We weave a grapevine

up the trunk of the almond tree,

we are strengthened by our suffering.

We are indestructible.

This world crushes us,

we refuse to turn poisonous,

dancing and rooting and branching

despite this.

In glorious defiance,

we pour ourselves forward

in honeyed amaretto flooding,

we sweeten the darkness,

light the bitterness.

We kasher every unholy implement

used against us.

We ready them for service

in the holy temple of our most

miraculous dance:

our continued existence.

At the rising sun and at its going down; We remember them.

At the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter; We remember them.

At the opening of the buds and in the rebirth of spring; We remember them.

At the blueness of the skies and in the warmth of summer; We remember them.

At the rustling of the leaves and in the beauty of the autumn; We remember them.

At the beginning of the year and when it ends; We remember them.

As long as we live, they too will live, for they are now a part of us as We remember them.

When we are weary and in need of strength; We remember them.

When we are lost and sick at heart; We remember them.

When we have decisions that are difficult to make; We remember them.

When we have joy we crave to share; We remember them.

When we have achievements that are based on theirs; We remember them.

For as long as we live, they too will live, for they are now a part of us as, We remember them.